


Falling Awake

by waywarded



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel and Dean Winchester Being Idiots, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel is a mother hen, Castiel/Dean Winchester Mutual Pining, Dean is at the Empty but Not Dead, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Arc: Alternate Michael (Supernatural: All Along the Watchtower) Possessing Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 00:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17131859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywarded/pseuds/waywarded
Summary: After Michael is killed by Team Free Will 2.0, Dean ends up in the Empty, Michael's grace pulling a sliver of his consciousness there. The Cosmic Entity calls him out on not realising Castiel is in love with him. Dean needs to decide what to do with that information as he wakes up home.





	Falling Awake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dogsled](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dogsled/gifts).



> For [Dogsled](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dogsled)! Their wish was _"Dean is confronted by Castiel’s emotions by a baddie (AU!Cas, Michael, The Empty, Ketch, Asmodeus, Billie) and then decides what he has to do about it"_ and I hope I at least vaguely delivered? HEAVY BREATHING. I love their work so it was fun writing for them <3
> 
> This is set before 14x08 and Castiel meeting the Entity again.
> 
> Thanks to [MaggieMaybe160](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaggieMaybe160) for betaing!

His heart is racing as his consciousness starts to return, but waking up _alert_ is nothing new to him.

 

Being surrounded by _darkness_ like this is.

 

It takes Dean less than two seconds to assess his surroundings enough to become aware that there is _no way_ he’s still on Earth. There’s… nothing.

 

He’s able to pick himself up from what he’s lying on, but he can’t sense _what_ it was that has been supporting his weight; for a while, he half expects to fall into the utter _nothing_ beneath him like some stupid-ass cartoon character.

 

He doesn’t have weapons on him. Even if he did, he isn’t sure what use one would be – just knows that he’d feel much more at ease if he had a knife on hand.

 

The darkness stretching in every direction around him is more than just normal darkness; or rather, it’s _less_. He takes a cautious step forwards; at least the soles of his shoes are supported by something, if not an actual surface.

 

It’s as if he’s standing on nothingness itself.

 

And then it dawns on him; Michael. He’s free from Michael’s control. Sam, Cas, Jack, Kaia. The spear. Heart racing, he lifts the hem of his shirt, which is oddly intact, to see the cut through his heart. They did it, they stopped the archangel. Killed him, and Dean with him, which is what he _wanted_ ; only the wound on his chest is mostly healed. Only he… isn’t in Hell. Neither is he in Heaven.

 

Nothingness itself...

 

_Why is he in the Empty?!_

 

“Great job, Chuck, universe, whoever,” he mutters to himself, turning around, pulling his shirt down. “Someone messed up big this time.”

 

He doesn’t feel dead. It’s nothing but nagging gut instinct, tugging at his consciousness, but he feels – wrong. Not whole. Transparent, to the point of staring at his forearm a long moment to make sure he isn’t.

 

“Intriguing,” a voice, both _familiar and unfamiliar_ , notes from behind him.

 

Dean spins on his heel. The entity he’s gazing at is _not Castiel_ , that much is obvious, despite his form. He’s all _wrong_ ; none of the softness, none of the fire. A twisted grin, just that, commanding his entire demeanour.

 

“Let me guess. You’re ’the Cosmic Entity’ in charge of,” Dean gestures at their surroundings, “ _this_. Nothing. The Empty. Why do you look like him?” He wants to ask _What do you want?_ but seeing the Entity use Cas’s form like this… feels like an insult, a joke meant to personally offend him.

 

“I thought it’d… mmm, make you feel at _home_ , yes?” The Entity spreads his arms, still grinning. “But, my dear boy, you know… no matter what Castiel might have been trying to make you _believe…_ he never really _loved_ you. How could he? You’re _human_ ; you’re _fleeting_. Inferior. I’ve been in his _head_ , you see, all those lies...”

 

Dean stares. “What,” he starts, resisting an urge to close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose, “what the hell are you talking about?”

 

Is he having a stroke in the afterlife? He doesn’t remember _ever_ being this confused in his life, and that’s _saying something_. _’He never really loved’…_ No, nope, he can’t comprehend where this is going. _At all_.

 

“Listen, pal,” he goes on, “I literally have no idea what you… _What_?”

 

The Entity cocks his head. His grin fading, replaced by his eyes narrowing (still, far from how _Cas_ narrows his), “You don’t know...” His words are slow as he keeps studying Dean with his eyes. “My, my, my… You honestly don’t know.”

 

Dean doesn’t have patience for this. “Know _what_?”

 

The Entity regains his grin as he steps closer, halting a foot from Dean. “Can’t blame me for _trying_ . Would’ve worked, should’ve worked… but you _don’t know_...” He shakes his head.

 

“Even if your _angel_ has never plain _confessed_ to you – how _stupid_ must you be for not knowing?”

 

He circles Dean, the latter using a significant amount of willpower _not to_ step back from him; this is the Entity’s domain, he can hardly run. He’d rather fight if it comes to that. “What are you _on_ -”

 

“You really don’t know that he’s in love with you.”

 

Dean, again, _stares_ , his brain hitting a complete _blank_. It doesn’t register at first. “First you say he’s… he doesn’t… then you...” he stammers.

 

Blank.

 

He’s getting more and more pissed off by the minute.

 

“Listen, you don’t even _get to_ talk about Cas, so how about you zip it. How about we change the topic?” he growls; anger, good, that he’s comfortable with.

 

But the Entity laughs. “You piss-poor creatures… The both of you? A human and an angel, _pining for each other_ , for G-O-D knows how many years, neither of you as much as entertaining the idea that… your pathetic little _feelings_ might be returned… Don’t you _see_ how _funny_ this is?” He steps closer again; and comes to a sudden halt, again. “You live in utter _misery…_ you hate yourselves so _profoundly_ you never even...”

 

Dean frowns. _He isn’t comfortable_ about the fact that the Entity can tell… Dean has never said a word. To anyone. Hell, it took him years to stop denying it from himself.

 

He very rarely lets himself consciously think about it.

 

About… _being in love with Castiel_.

 

He’s made peace with the feeling – the promise unspoken, the definition of his heart – not going away if he ignores it. He’s _not pining_. He’s just… living. As simple as that.

 

The suggestion of it not being unrequited-

 

More importantly, there’s something off about the way the Entity keeps circling him, but not touching him.

 

Dean looks him up and down, attempts not to let him mimicking Cas’s form bother him, only half succeeding, even if his focus is elsewhere, his frown deep.

 

“You _can’t_ , can you? You physically can’t touch me.”

 

“That took a while, but _no_ ,” the Entity replies, clapping his hands in slow motion. “In case you hadn’t noticed, _Dean-o_ , you aren’t exactly angel. You aren’t exactly demon. You aren’t even _human_ , at the present, not really – just smoke and mirrors.”

 

“Then...” It’s starting to make a little bit of sense, _maybe_. “I’m not actually dead. I’m not actually here.”

 

“Mmm, you’re a _tiny bit_ here,” the Entity falls back a few steps. “Not your _soul_ , no, just… the bits of you entangled with your archangel buddy’s grace, being pulled here when he ended up here. Alas, you’re _fading_ ; can’t blame me for trying, can you? Experimenting. I can’t touch you; you aren’t of enough _substance_. But maybe if you had touched me… say, attacked me...” He shrugs, smiling. “Who knows, maybe I could’ve pulled you in, soul and all.”

 

Fading – Dean notices that he is, in fact, more transparent; which is freaky, but if he’s fading from the Empty… does that mean he’ll wake up _home_?

 

“So you were just trying to make me pissed off enough to, what, charge at a being more powerful than me?” he raises his eyebrows. Which… is not actually a long shot, with him. But hell if he’s going to share _that_ with this asshole.

 

All the things he said about Cas…

 

“You want to ask me if it was all _lies_.” The Entity has a slight smile on his features. It isn’t even a question.

 

No. Dean doesn’t want to ask. He wants to _know_ , sure. But he doesn’t want to ask, not this being using Cas’s image against him, using his… whether it’s a lie or not, using Cas’s feelings like that. As a weapon. Even if he asked, it’s not as if he _trusts_ this guy.

 

And it’s not as if it’s… important.

 

Unless Cas thinks he’s not good enough for Dean.

 

He guesses that kind of makes it important.

 

“I don’t _care_ , you son of a bitch,” Dean spits. “You’ve made it clear you can’t harm me, that I’m poofing out of here in, what, a few minutes? Just do us both a favour and go… make rounds on the sleeping angels. Leave me alone.”

 

But the grin on the Entity’s features glints through his eyes now. “Such lies, _such lies_ … Let that be my parting gift. _You won’t ever know_.”

 

The sneer nearly has Dean snap more insults at the asshole, but he’s… not… He’s dizzy, rapidly losing consciousness, _drifting_ ,

 

_falling_

 

_awake_.

 

Dean gasps for breath in desperation, fights the firm hands holding him down, because _no_ , he’s _not going down without a fight_ -

 

“Dean.” His name, just his name, but in it a promise. The familiar voice instantly prompts Dean to stop struggling the hands holding him and open his eyes.

 

It registers in his brain that he’s in his bed, in his room at the bunker, but his concentration is on the blue eyes looking down at him.

 

_Not a lie_ , his brain offers, incoherently. Because how could it be? How hasn’t he _seen_ it before? The way Cas looks at him; with such utter _worry_ and gentleness and…

 

Love. With such _love_.

 

“Dean, how are you feeling?” Castiel asks, his hold turning more gentle now that Dean isn’t fighting, anymore, a frown forming on his features. “Your injuries are still healing, so I’m going to need you to stay in bed, but you’ll be all right in a few days.” There’s a hint of an ’and if you don’t do as I tell you, I _will make you_ ’ in his tone. Also relief. There’s such relief in Cas’s tone, his features, that it makes Dean’s heart crack a little. How has he not seen all of this before?

 

“I’m… good. Bit ow, but that’s what you get from being impaled with an archangel-killing spear, I guess,” Dean slurs as a reply. “I’m good, Cas. I’m good.”

 

The relief on Cas’s expression fades and is replaced by desperation. “I was against that. We knew you’d likely survive it, but risking your life like that-”

 

Dean waves a hand. “ _Shut up_ , Cas. Not blaming any of you. Would be blaming all of you if you hadn’t done it.” He pauses. “Thanks. I mean it.”

 

Castiel squeezes Dean’s forearm gently for a long while, his brow still knitted, but not in guilt anymore, just… He just looks sad. Tired, even.

 

Dean averts his eyes. “Are Sam and the kid…?” But he knows they’re all right; trusts Cas enough for him to have told him if anyone was in danger, or worse.

 

“Sam and Jack are OK,” Cas replies, smoothing the blankets on top of Dean’s torso before pulling away. “Both sleeping. I had to practically force them off your bedside, Sam was starting to hallucinate with the lack of rest.”

 

Dean snorts. “Glad you’ve been taking care of them,” he replies, softly.

 

Silence. He can’t keep avoiding thinking about the elephant in the room – what, in the name of everything holy, is he going to do about… this? Cas. Emotions. _Them_.

 

He wets his chapped lips with his tongue. If it was only him, he’d be all right. He’d be peachy. He’s used to bottling up his emotions. But if Cas is really… if Cas is harbouring similar things that Dean has been and they are hurting him? That’s not acceptable, not in Dean’s books.

 

Stupid-ass angel for never saying anything, for thinking he’s not… worth it, or something, which still feels incomprehensible to Dean.

 

But he can’t bring himself to say it. He isn’t… Give him a monster, anyday, but he is _not brave enough for this_.

 

Dean huffs a sigh, his thoughts wandering.

 

_Cas, I love you too. I can’t believe you’d be stupid enough to fall for someone like me, but god, I have been in love with you for I don’t even know how long. And I’m sorry I’ll probably never be brave enough to say it. Guess you can’t have it all._

 

He promises himself to start making an effort to… show Cas he’s cared about, though. That’s the least he can do. Show him that he is important.

 

Dean flicks his eyes towards his angel again. Cas stares back at him in absolute shock, his eyes wide, his entire form frozen. What…

 

Wait. “Di… did you… did you just...” Dean stammers, in panic. _Did that just count as a prayer?_ Did Cas just _hear him_?

 

Cas nods with extreme tension. Dean feels like his brain might explode. “How is _that fair_?!” he rushes to defend himself, makes a move to sit up but Cas’s hands are on his arms, pushing him back down before he can move an inch. “Cas, you can’t just listen in on private thoughts that aren’t _meant as prayers!_ ” But he knows that isn’t how it works; Cas can’t read minds. It’s a mistake on the human’s end if a thought slips into a prayer. He’s panicking now, anyway, because _Cas just heard him think that, and…_

 

“You meant it?” Cas manages, his voice strained, his hands pressing so roughly on Dean’s shoulders that he fears he might push him right through the mattress.

 

“No, I was messing with you with _thoughts you were not even meant to hear_ ,” Dean groans, taking a loose hold of Cas’s wrists as he presses his eyes shut for a second. Opens them again. The damage has already been done. “Yes, I meant it,” Dean said with a softer tone.

 

And, God, he’s _terrified_. Not of the rejection (which is entirely possible), but of… voicing his heart… of putting himself in such a vulnerable position. Of letting himself _love_ ; he’s denied himself that, at least in the romantic sense, for so long now. But his love for Cas, it’s going to be there, whether he voices it or not.

 

“I...” Cas starts, loosening his hold, his breathing shallow. Their eyes lock with each others. There are questions, too many questions, buzzing between them like electricity. There are things in need of being talked about.

 

But Dean doesn’t care.

 

If he’s in? He is all in.

 

Terrified or not.

 

“I never… I don’t deserve-”

 

“For the love of god, Cas,” Dean interrupts him, tugging him closer by his sleeves because apparently Cas isn’t about to let him sit up, “we are _not_ having that argument now; if you want to kiss me, just kiss me, if you don’t want to, just don’t, and we’ll pretend this never happened, I was archangel-weapon delirious. _You matter to me_.”

 

Cas looks bewildered for what feels like an eternity; but then slowly leans down, cups Dean’s face with his hands. “You know, then,” he mutters, his eyes fluttering half-shut. “That defying Heaven wasn’t the only way I fell for you.” Dean half wants to point out what a big pile of _sap_ that entire line is - he really should start teaching Cas how to flirt properly. Lines like that just don’t _work_ on anyone... except maybe Dean Winchester, considering. He’s too happy to hear that said out loud to make fun of it.

 

And, _he can’t quite actually believe this is happening_ , but their lips collide; gentle, sloppy, full of question marks. The both of them searching for answers they’ll have plenty of time finding together.

**Author's Note:**

> Behind the scenes bonus. The Entity going "intriguing" at Dean was not tagged as who was speaking until my lovely beta thought that was Dean and was Very Confused as to why _Dean_ would say something like that - so now we are laughing at both Dean going, "intriguing" with a posh English accent and the Entity in turn saying Dean-ish stuff like "son of a bitch". You're welcome.


End file.
